The Peace Cycle first report Salaam, by: Yiota Kamaratos For more information about the Peace Cycle: http://thepeacecycle.com Today I woke up in a hotel in Amman, and was not surprised to see it was sunny. We were supposed to load our bikes and head off to the crossing into Israel. In the event, the bus that came was being driven by a man who thought we could lift the bikes onto the roof and they would be ok without being tied down, or so it seemed to me. Some of us have hire bikes, and others have brought their own. I brought my own bike so was really uncomfortable with making a big bike mountain on top of a bright orange minibus and driving 2 1&Mac218;2 hours to the frontier. Eventually we communicated this and thanks to Sarah (spelling Sa’rah…?) we insisted they send a pickup truck for the bags and bikes. It took hours, and I get the feeling this is just how it is and getting peeved about it would be pointless. When we got to the frontier we had to show our passports to 4 different sets of Jordanian officials before we even got to the Israeli crossing. We were dropped off and had to wait for another bus. Eventually we finished off with half a dozen bikes inside the bus with us. The ride to the border was minutes. Jordanians have lots of police and army and lots of different kinds of smart uniforms. Israeli security wear jeans, short sleeves, sunglasses and carry enormous automatic weapons. The border crossing seemed to be filled with teenagers. We were hustled inside the building. We’re travelling with Lauren and her daughter Alex who’s 8 years old and adorable. Lauren is a journalist with reason to fear she may not be welcome here. There is a particular stamp in her passport that made it a virtual certainty that she would be denied entry. Having cleared passport control myself, I went to sit down and watch what would happen with Lauren. Alex had already taken herself to the passport control and got herself an entry stamp. She is intrepid. Lauren looked very cool as she approached the kiosk. She handed over her passport. Then the fun started. She was told to go sit down. Two security men in regulation jeans, sneakers and clear sunglasses (why clear sunglasses?) approached her. It was obvious that Lauren arriving had kicked off some real interest in the place, that in early October is starved of anything much going on. We were the only group passing through. It seemed she had been ‘rumbled’ and wasn’t going anywhere, that that would be the end of her trip. I felt upset because it’s hard to make a connection with someone and then have it cut short. In a brief time she has become a central figure in our group and to lose her would be a great loss indeed. Eventually we had all cleared passport control except Lauren. She sat to the side with Alex who had by this time started to ride her bicycle around the building and saying she wanted to go outside with the rest of us. Anne and Sarah stayed sat beside her. Did I say that Sarah is of Palestinian origin with a German passport. She knows the score and they were loathe to leave Lauren alone. I went outside to the bus and felt bereft. I waundered around twiddling my thumbs until, low and behold, what should I see but Alex’s great big smile come walking through from inside the security zone followed closely by her mother. It felt like a miracle. How could it happen? We reckon that Lauren has some pretty close political connections and a phone call or two had established that it would be a PR disaster to separate a mother and child from a peaceful cycle trip at the main tourist crossing point into Israel. No doubt her story would have been on the late night international news and it would not have looked good. But there is no doubt that Lauren was mightily relieved to get in with her daughter and be with us rather than making her lonely way back to Amman with two hire bikes, a bag of dirty laundry and a heart-broken little girl. So we got on the bus and headed to Nazareth. Jesus’s home town. We’re staying in the Hostel of St. Margaret which sits on a hill overlooking the town. It was a convent, but now it’s a place for people to stay. Our room has a vaulted ceiling. There is a central courtyard with a fountain and we ate outside. Dinner was lively. The conversation is about the details of politics. It helps that the people in the group are well informed and I find myself doing more listening than talking; there is so much to know, where I feel myself more comfortable with just allowing myself to be here. How does it feel to be in Israel? It feels good. Israel is much greener than Jordan. I know there are reasons for that; it’s called using all the water – but still it looks productive. The young people at the border crossing were not impolite, they weren’t exactly friendly, but where there are tales of it taking 5 hours or more to cross, we were processed efficiently in under an hour and a half. That was a blessing because it was really really hot today. But the thing is, that where Jordan is a pretty stark and desolate landscape, the people are always smiling and the energy is really high. Here, the roads are better, the infrastructure, the bridges, the tunnels, the agriculture, the shops, etc. but the people seem low, like their energy is more somber. I can’t really put my finger on it, but that’s how it feels. It’s really good that we didn’t get split up. Every day is an adventure. TOP